


a moment's grace

by planetcleer



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Build, and finn/rey is really only there if you squint, but be patient young padawan, join me on this trash journey and you shall see, quite honestly this is more like pre-poe/finn/rey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:44:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5590201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planetcleer/pseuds/planetcleer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the destruction of the Starkiller Base, things are rather dysfunctional and complicated. Thankfully, Finn and Poe have one another to lean on, and to talk to, and to sleep beside, and to stay up late with, and to joke around with, and to train with, and to cry with, and to maybe at some point down the line fall in love with...</p><p>And oh, because things aren't confusing enough, Rey is there, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so. this is my first star wars fic, which is exciting. here's hoping i do right by these little shits.
> 
> i always feel like i've written way more than it turns out to be. damn.
> 
> also, this fic will have all the touchstarved!finn and dog piles i can manage. you've been warned.

Finn wakes with a huge gasp of a breath, eyes wide open and body flying into a sitting position until--until--until he’s stuck there, and oh, it hurts so bad, everything hurts so bad, his entire body burns, and he can barely breathe anymore, chest heaving--

Something solid presses him back down and through the blood roaring in his ears, he can hear beeping, shouting, catches a glimpse of big, brown eyes. Everything is bright, so bright, and he feels so cold, even though his body is on fire. None of this information is processing right in his brain, he literally can’t make sense of anything but the pain, but it doesn’t matter for much longer after that, anyway. 

His hearing goes first, fading until it sounds like he’s listening through water, through cotton, the sounds distant and echoing in his head. His vision begins to blur around the edges then, growing fuzzier and fuzzier, and right before the darkness takes over, he sees those eyes again--warm and endless and offering a last token of comfort before he goes.

And then everything is dark again.

~

Finn wakes slowly, eyelashes fluttering and breath even and deep. It’s bright again, but he isn’t so overwhelmed--in fact, he feels fine. Not even in pain. 

“Hey, there’s my buddy,” the voice comes from beside him, and he turns his head, blinking groggily. There, he finds a smile so genuine and so kind that it can only belong to one Poe Dameron. And it does.

Finn finds himself smiling in return--the corners of his lips turning up weakly because he’s tired and it’s all he can manage--and opens his mouth to reply, but all that comes out is a horrible rasp. Poe starts at that, and next thing Finn knows, there’s a warm hand cupping the back of his head and the rim of a cup touching his lips.

Cool water slips down his throat and it’s probably the single most wonderful feeling he has ever experienced in his life--better even than the time on Jakku, because this water is clean, cold, and not currently being slurped up by some disgusting creature that will soon bump him down into the sand. 

Although the water disappears soon after, and with it, his thoughts of the beast and the sand and the muddied water, the hand lingers for a moment or so longer. 

(Later, Finn will wonder if he really did feel Poe’s thumb stroke the back of his neck lightly before pulling away, but he’s not coherent enough to really even pick up on it now. All he registers is warmth and, surprisingly, comfort, even in the simple touch… So maybe he’s a bit starved of contact. Sue him.)

The hand is gone then, however, and he clears his throat to pull himself from his thoughts, testing his throat out, “Thank you.” He rests his head back against the pillows then, nodding gratefully when Poe assists him in raising the bed so he’s sitting up a bit straighter, “Thank you, Poe.”

“Of course, Finn,” Poe’s smile is sunny, brighter than even the lights in his room, but gentle, even still.

Finn clears his throat once more and shifts, trying to think about why he is where he is, “What, uh, what happened?”

Poe considers this for a moment, smile turning into a slight frown, “You don’t remember?”

“I--I mean… I remember Starkiller,” Finn’s brow crinkles as he thinks, mind straining, grasping for wisps of memories, “And--... Ah, and Solo, Han Solo…” That memory hurts, though he hadn’t known him for long. Solo was a good man, a legend, and Finn had been as much fond of him as Rey was--Rey. Rey. Rey. Rey, body crumpling at the base of a tree, snowflakes swirling down around her, catching in her hair, and the saber--the lightsaber. Glowing blue, and glowing red, and the crackling of a laser in his ear. White-hot pain digging deep into his shoulder as the rough bark pressed into his back--and Lord, his back.

The saber flying from his hands, lodging itself in the snow, and burning red slicing up the length of his back.

“Hey, hey, Finn, buddy, it’s okay, it’s okay… I need you take a deep breath,” Poe’s voice is soft, but it breaks him out of whatever trance he had been in, clear enough to hang onto through the fog of his memories. There’s a hand on his shoulder, another on his thigh, and it’s grounding--his touch and his voice are grounding.

He had been hyperventilating, Finn realizes suddenly, and now that he can focus on his breathing, it evens out again. The lightheadedness he only now registers feeling passes. The hand on his shoulder makes it’s way to his back, rubs small circles into it, “That’s it, there we go… You’re okay.”

After taking a second to pull himself together, he looks over at Poe again and smiles sheepishly. His cheeks are betraying him, a blush rising to the skin, but, well… He’s rather dark. Maybe Poe just won’t be able to tell.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I just--... I remember what happened. After the oscillator blew up, Rey and I were in the woods, and Kylo Ren--he tried to stop us. He threw Rey into a tree and I fought him, but then he knocked the lightsaber out of my hands and hit me and… That’s it.”

Poe removes the hand from his thigh, but the other just returns to his shoulder, and Finn tries not to think about it that much, “Yep, Rey said that’s when you went down.”

The mention of Rey again makes him frown suddenly, however, concern darkening his features, “Rey, where is she? What happened? She--She made it, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, bud, she made it,” Poe grins at him, bobbing his head. “Hell yeah she made it. Ren got away, but not without some serious injuries, from what I hear. We lost Han, of course, and some of the pilots,” his expression wavers just slightly at that, but he recovers quickly, “Some good pilots, but everyone else made it. Rey is fine. Actually, one of the old robots woke up and he had the rest of Skywalker’s map, so she left a few days ago to find him.”

“She’s going to find Luke Skywalker?” Finn’s interest is certainly piqued at that, and he sits up straighter, “With who?”

“She and Chewie left on the Falcon, with the robot, too--R2-D2. There’s been a few transmissions from her, so we know everything is going well.”

“Poe--thank you.”

And he means it. It’s good to be updated, to know everything that’s going on, to not be worried about everyone’s well being. Rey is fine, and Poe is fine, and he is fine, too--or at least, he hopes so. It may suck being stuck in medbay for the time being, especially with the Resistance recovering and Rey being who knows where out in the universe right now, but they’re all okay. They’re okay.

“No worries, Finn,” Poe squeezes Finn’s shoulder, eyes crinkling happily. They stare at one another for what feels like a long time before he stands finally, nodding once with a certain finality, “I’ve got a meeting to get to, but I’ll stop by later, alright? Bring BB-8 around, maybe.”

Poe winks, honestly winks, and then he’s out the door.

~

“How you feeling today, Finn?” Poe drapes himself over the closest chair, as per usual, grins charmingly, as per usual, and lifts BB-8 into the seat beside him, as per usual.

Finn has only been awake for two days, but there’s already a lot of as per usuals.

“Alright, I’m doing alright,” he makes a show of pushing himself up on his own, wiggling his eyebrows and smiling when the act rouses a bright laugh from the other man.

“Look at this, look at you! Sitting up all on your own,” Poe claps his hands together, leaning forward on his knees, and BB-8 chitters happily beside him, “That’s great, that’s really great. BB-8 congratulates you.”

With a soft chuckle, Finn settles himself back against the pillows, “Thank you for the translation. I’m… Still getting used to his language.”

“It takes some time,” Poe admits. BB-8 beeps in what can only be described as a incredulous manner, head swiveling around to his master. If he were human, Finn supposes he would be glaring at Poe--but then, it would be playful, he’s sure. BB-8 is a good natured little guy, especially when it comes to Poe.

“Anyway,” Finn starts after a second, looking between the two of them, “Tell me about your day, man. I’m sure it’s been more interesting than mine.”

~

On the fifth day, one of the nurses comes in and decides today is the day that Finn walks again. It goes pretty terribly, even though Finn’s injuries weren’t related to his head, or his legs, or anything else involved in walking. 

Standing pulls at the stitches holding his back together, as it turns out, and it’s uncomfortable at best, very, very painful at worst. So the fifth day becomes the day he learns to stand, and the sixth day becomes the day he learns to stand on his own, and the seventh day becomes the day he learns to walk. With help.

Poe isn’t able to come around as often the fifth day, only once the sixth day, and so when he appears on the seventh day, late in the afternoon, he’s greeted by Finn standing in the doorway to his room.

“Finn, buddy!” Poe’s grin lights up the entire medbay when he lays eyes on Finn leaning against the doorframe, and it makes Finn’s heart feel funny, but he tries his best not to dwell on it. Instead, he goes to push off of the doorframe so he can properly greet Poe--of course, he’s not always the best at calculating things, and his own balance, at the moment, anyway, is one of those things.

Thankfully, Poe’s got his arms out already, so he uses that to keep from giving himself away. The other man hugs him tightly to his chest and Finn, finding Poe’s laughter just as infectious as everyone else, begins to laugh as well. Their faces are pressed into each other’s shoulders. Their laughter is muffled, but it’s good. Finn feels good.

“Man, I can’t believe you’re walking! I don’t come ‘round for a day and you surprise me with this?” Poe pulls back, but keeps his hands on Finn’s shoulders, holding him out at arm’s length and looking him over, “I’d say maybe I should leave more often if this is what happens, but I’d miss you too much.”

Before Finn can really process that sentence, Poe continues with a grin, “You look great. You hurting at all?”

Finn processes that a little bit better, but he still hesitates before shaking his head, “A bit, but not too bad. I might, uh, need some help getting back to bed, though. If you don’t mind.”

“Absolutely,” Poe gracefully maneuvers himself under Finn’s arm, wrapping one of his own around Finn’s waist. It’s then, as they slowly work their way back to the bed, that he notices BB-8 is there, as well, trailing behind them.

As he settles onto the edge of the bed, Poe across from him and BB-8 at his feet, he feels lighter. To the door and back is good, it’s impressive, and now that he’s sitting, he hurts less. Plus, Poe is here now for company, with BB-8. He likes the nurses, and the occasional random Resistance member who comes around to thank him, but they aren’t really the same. Especially the latter. He always gets very awkward and uncomfortable when people do that--as if he had done anything all that great. It had all been Han, Chewie, Rey, Poe, any and everyone else.

Maybe his next course of action would be making some other friends, because it wouldn’t do well to only talk to Poe and the droid and be immensely uncomfortable around everyone else.

“Listen, Finn, I’m sorry I haven’t been around too much the past couple of days. We’ve been doing a lot of training drills, and then some other things came up, so I couldn’t be here as often as I wanted. Sorry about that,” Poe seems sheepish, genuinely remorseful, and he’s looking at Finn with those big, warm brown eyes, leaning in on his knees so he’s even closer, and that’s the thing about Poe Dameron, he thinks.

He’s very, very good at making you feel like you’re the only person in the entire galaxy.

~

“General Organa,” Finn nearly climbs out of bed when the woman enters his room, feeling as if he needs to stand and salute or something, but she just holds a hand up to keep him from doing so, chuckling not unkindly.

“Please, Finn, there’s no need for that,” She moves closer to the bed, but doesn’t sit in any of the chairs. Instead, she perches on the edge of the bed, next to his legs, and smiles at him like he vaguely imagines a mother would.

“Oh, ah, of course. I’m sorry,” Finn clears his throat awkwardly, shifts in his bed, and still feels like he should be standing. Instead, he flattens his palms against his thighs, smooths out the blanket, and then looks back up at her. 

She’s still smiling in that way.

After a beat of silence, General Organa reaches over to rest her hand on one of Finn’s, patting it gently, “I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to visit, but I wanted to tell you how thankful I am for all that you’ve done for us. You gave us most valuable information that helped save our lives, and the galaxy’s, and more than that, you risked your own life for our cause. Without you, we never would have been able to destroy the Starkiller Base. I can’t even begin to describe how grateful not only I, but every member of this Resistance is for your help.”

This kind of attention makes Finn anxious, so unused to it as he is, and this time is no exception, especially coming from a woman such as General Organa, as Princess Leia--the Resistance’s fearless leader.

“I… You’re welcome?” He says, very intelligently, but only after a long internal debate on how exactly to respond to such openness. A second passes, and then he realizes that maybe that wasn’t exactly the right thing to say after all, so he tries again, “I mean, um... I don’t know what to say. I was just trying to do what was right. I’m happy to have helped.”

This makes General Organa chuckle again, even as she grasps Finn’s hand in hers, “You’re a good man, Finn, really. And if by the time you’re all healed up, you’re interested in helping out more, there will always be a spot in the Resistance for you. Always.”

Finn nods once, lets the words tumble around in his head, but he’s already pretty sure he knows what that answer will be when it comes time to give it. It isn’t like there’s anywhere else for him to go, anything else for him to do, and even if there was--... Well.

He was scared, before all of this, even before they met Maz. He was scared on the Falcon, scared on the freighter, scared on Jakku, scared even when he was a Stormtrooper. He tried not to be, he wasn’t supposed to be, but he was--he always had been.

And if he’s being honest with himself, he is, still. He’s scared. But it’s not the same anymore, not when he has this whole Resistance standing with him, not when he has Princess Leia, and BB-8, and Rey, and Poe. They mean something to him, and this means something to them, and he will stand with them because it’s right, because he wants to, because he’s more afraid of letting something happen while he sits idly by than he is of being caught up in it.

He doesn’t want to run anymore. 

And so he won’t.

~

Two weeks pass after Finn wakes up before he is finally released, though he remains on a strict med regimen, as well as being set up for some physical therapy sessions to make sure that there aren’t any bumps on the road to recovery.

The night before he’s released, Poe shows up, knocking on the frame of his open door. Finn smiles openly at him and he ducks in, holding a helmet under one arm and something else under the other. Although Finn’s lamp is on, it’s dark in the medbay and it’s hard to see very clearly what it is in the dim light.

“Hey, Finn,” Poe sets his helmet and the other thing down in a far seat, then moves to stand by the foot of the bed, “What are you reading?”

Finn looks down at the book folded over his lap and blushes, though he’s not sure why. He takes a moment to mark his page before setting it on his bedside table, face down, and rubbing at the back of his neck, “Just--about star charting, it’s about star charting. That’s all.”

Actually, it’s a romance novel about a dashing smuggler and a young bartender at a cantina and okay, so maybe it’s really cheesy and cliche and stupid, but it’s kind of actually pretty interesting and one of the nurses, Odona, always stops to talk to him about it and it’s good, it’s really good, but there’s no way he’s telling Poe that.

Fortunately for him, Poe seems to be satisfied with that for the time being, and instead comes to sit at the foot of the bed. He rests his hand on Finn’s calf, pats it twice, and then smiles in a way Finn’s never seen before.

(In a few weeks, he’ll know it as Poe’s bad-news smile, regretful and timid. He’ll learn to hate it, partially because of said bad news, but mostly because the other man is too quiet, too stoic, too unlike himself. For now, however--)

“So I have some news,” Poe says finally, after a long moment of weird silence, and that smile hasn’t gone away yet. There’s another pause, but then he clears his throat, squeezes Finn’s calf, and nods resolutely, “I’m leaving for a mission tonight. General’s orders.”

Finn blinks once, then opens his mouth to speak, but Poe beats him to it, “Now, I know you’re clear to be released tomorrow, and I’m real sorry I won’t be around for that. It’s just a little reconnaissance mission, though, so I won’t be gone for too long. Few days, maybe.”

It’s a little disappointing, and Finn is vaguely concerned with who he’s going to talk to with both Poe and Rey gone, but. At least it’s only reconnaissance. Poe will be safe doing recon and he says he’ll only be gone for a little while, anyway, so it won’t be that bad. 

He’s aware, though, that Poe is waiting for his response, brow creased just slightly, and he feels bad that the man is so worried for… Well, for whatever reason he’s found to be worried, even though he has none. Perhaps it’s that he won’t be around when Finn is officially released, which makes an unfamiliar warmth bloom through his chest--and how does Poe Dameron manage to be so thoughtful?

He never knew kindness such as this in the First Order. It throws him for a loop.

And damn, he’s forgotten to reply again. Poe looks even more anxious now.

“Well, that’s alright, not like you’ll be missing that much. I’ll just be laid up in a different bed somewhere, probably,” Finn huffs out a laugh, enjoying the way Poe’s smile becomes real, the way concern bleeds away from his features, “And hey, maybe this will force me to make some new friends, huh?”

“Woah, now, should I be worried?” Poe cracks a charming grin, all teeth and dimples and crinkly eyes, “I don’t want anyone taking my place as your best buddy.”

The words make Finn’s heart jump. Of course, he considers the two of them friends, just as he considers Rey to be his friend, but the only thing he ever had before that even came close to a friend was Slip--and they never even said the words aloud. If anyone overheard, there would surely have been a punishment, and anyway, how close could two Stormtroopers really be?

Close, but somehow not like this, even in all the time he and Slip spent with one another. No, Poe Dameron is different, and Poe Dameron is also certainly his friend. Maybe even his best, second only to, if anyone, Rey.

So yes, his reaction may be somewhat silly, but he decides it’s only fair given the situation.

“I wouldn’t dream of replacing you, Poe,” Finn’s tone is light, but he hopes that the truth in his words is conveyed properly.

It must be, because one second later and Poe is leaning over, wrapping his arms, mindful of the wounds, around Finn, allowing Finn to do the same. They stay like that for a time, breathing in sync, before Poe finally pulls back, clapping the other on the shoulder as he does, “I have something for you.”

Before Finn can ask what exactly it is, he’s standing, making his way back over to the far chair he had placed his belongings in just a short while ago. Finn leans over, cranes his neck to see around Poe, but the man is broad shouldered and does well to hide what it is he’s got--as if it would even be possible to make it out in the dimness, anyway.

Luckily, Finn doesn’t have to wait long to find out, as Poe soon turns and holds out what appears to be a jacket.

A jacket. A jacket--Poe’s jacket, no, his jacket, Finn’s jacket, missing all this time but returned to him now by the very man who gifted it to him in the first place. He lets out a slow breath and reaches for it, bringing it close once he gets it in his hands. After the injuries he had sustained, he figured it a pipe dream of ever being able to wear the jacket again--after all, he had been wounded in his shoulder, cut up the back, both while wearing it, and who knows what other injuries had taken their toll on the poor thing.

As it is, it had never been a pipe dream at all. The jacket has been mended, though the job is mediocre at best, and Finn runs the pads of his thumbs over the uneven stitching thoughtfully. Though it may not be as good as new, it’s fixed and it’s here and it’s his again.

“I know it doesn’t look amazing, so I apologize for that, but I figured, hey, even if it’s too ugly to wear, at least Finn’s got it back, right?” Poe scrubs at the stubble on his jaw and eyes the jacket nervously.

“Poe, this is incredible. You did this?” Finn raises his head, meets Poe’s gaze, smiles with unabashed joy, “It’s not too ugly at all! God, I can’t believe you fixed it. Thank you so, so much. This is… This is incredible.”

Poe’s laugh is timid, like he’s uncomfortable with the gratitude, and offers a one-shouldered shrug, “You don’t have to spare my feelings, Finn. It’s pretty bad.”

“Shut up,” Finn quips, and the words come out a little more on the harsher side than he had planned, so he clears his throat, tries again, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. It must have taken awhile, and I know that you’re busy.”

A second passes, then he adds, playfully, “Besides, I think it gives it some character.”

“Good. Good, that’s good. I’m so glad you like it,” and Poe is sincere.

Finn takes another moment to admire the jacket before looking back up at the pilot, bashful smile playing on his lips, “Now, will you help me put this on?”

And Poe does. 

Finn spends the rest of the visit against the pillows with his jacket keeping him warm, wears it long after Poe hugs him and takes his leave. He wears it when he goes to sleep that night, and takes it off just long enough to change into a t-shirt and some pants before it’s back on again.

He realizes, at some point, that it smells like Poe. He realizes, also, that he doesn’t mind at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Finn sits at a lone table near the back of the mess, picking out potato chunks from his stew and sketching in an open notebook. Only a few hours have passed since he was released from the medbay, so he hasn’t had the time to do much save for meet briefly with the general to be given a tour and shown to his new room, and then come down to grab some dinner before heading off to sleep.

Getting back into bed is the last thing he wants to after weeks of being stuck there, but he finds, even after a few hours, the exertion of walking around on his own has left him tired. He’ll be glad to get some rest, in any event, and it’s the only practical option, what with his physical health the way it is.

No, it’s best to go to bed after he’s finished eating. Maybe he’ll have the luxury of staying up late in a couple week’s time.

“Finn!”

The jarring break in the background noise has him startling, looking up just in time to see a woman in an orange jumpsuit set down her tray and settle in across from him. She’s young, and, he supposes, pretty--a pilot, if the jumpsuit is anything to go by, and not for the first time, he’s amazed at how many younger people are here, part of the Resistance. He shouldn’t be that shocked, what with he being twenty-three himself and Rey younger still, but, well. It’s surprising, anyway.

“Um… Hello,” He says conversationally, brow furrowing in slight confusion. He has a sporkful of potato and thick brown broth halfway up to his mouth. Who is this woman?

Just as spontaneously as she appeared, two more show up and take the seats next to both her and Finn, respectively. Beside her is an alien, though he isn’t sure which species, with big, dark eyes and what appears to be a leather hat. The man next to him is human, with a kind, yet weathered face.

He’s literally never seen any of these people before.

“Took you two long enough,” the woman sneers at her companions, but it’s clear that she’s only joking as she smiles behind the glass she’s raised to her lips.

“You got here, what, two seconds before we did?” the man beside Finn rolls his eyes, tearing into his dinner roll and dipping a bit in his stew, “And that’s only because you cut in front of me, and I’m nice enough to wait for my friends.”

The woman’s laugh is clear and bright, and she playfully tells him to shut up at the exact same time Finn says, “Excuse me, but who are you?”

“You haven’t introduced yourself yet? Terrible manners, Pava,” the man turns to Finn and offers him a friendly grin, “I apologize for her lack of manners, and my own, I s’pose. The name’s Ello Asty.”

“Jessika Pava,” the woman--Jessika introduces, just before very obviously kicking Ello under the table. She hums pleasantly, feigning innocence and sticking her hand out even as he yelps.

Finn hesitates, then takes her hand, shaking it once at an awkward angle over the table. His eyes shift to the other, who has been quiet so far.

“Ah, I’m Nien Nunb,” Nien smiles, nodding once in his direction, “Very good to meet you.”

Finn thinks, idly, that’s he heard the name before--a smuggler, perhaps, or maybe even an old war hero, someone who would have been spoken of as an enemy, if at all, up until recently--but he doesn’t get much chance to dwell on it, because Jessika is speaking again.

“And you’re Finn,” she pauses long enough to swallow down some water, and her smile, this time, is amiable, no longer mischievous, “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

That causes him to take pause, eyes widening a little, as he tries to think of what they would have heard, “A lot? About me?”

“Poe talks about you often,” Ello volunteers, speaking around some carrots, and then seems to hurry to add more as he glances at Jessika out of the corner of his eye, “Actually, everyone does. You’re a bit of a hero after everything you did for us.”

Nien nods sagely, leaning forward, “And thank you for that. We never would have managed to destroy that base without your help, and we’d all be dead, then, I’m sure.”

The words are heavy, but no one seems to be caught on them as Finn is, so he clears his throat to avoid too much awkwardness and moves on, “Well, uh. Yeah. Thank you. I mean, it wasn’t a big deal or anything, I didn’t really do all that much, and I’m--I’m happy to help. It was the right thing to do.”

He can feel Jessika’s eyes on him and he swallows, hard, when he meets her squinting gaze. No one speaks for a long moment, and then--

“You know, Poe is right. The guy’s oddly adorable,” Jessika huffs out an indignant ‘what?’ as Nien shoves her, and Finn splutters, cheeks warm, until Ello decides to spare him any more confusion and embarrassment.

“What’s this?”

Finn’s knee-jerk reaction is to slam the notebook shut, having forgotten it was even there in the first place, and okay, so maybe Ello didn’t save him from embarrassment, after all, because Nien is looking over with vague interest and Jessika has curiosity practically burning in her eyes and his smile is weak as he tucks the book into the bag at his side.

“Nothing, it’s nothing, I just--... Doodles. They’re only doodles,” he lets out a breath, slow through his parted lips, and looks down at his half-eaten stew, “I’m sorry, that was a bit of an overreaction. I don’t really like people looking at them.”

And though he doesn’t speak of it, he’s reminded of his time as a Stormtrooper, of the First Order, of how his reaction had to be that quick to avoid punishment. There wasn’t time for hobbies such as drawing and reading then, and even when there was, they were considered a weakness, a distraction. Hiding it was the only way to get away with it, if you dared to even try, and so hide it he did. Maybe he had always been a bit defective.

“That’s quite alright, I was only wondering, anyway,” Ello smoothes things over with a smile and a gentle pat on his back before he turns back to his food.

Jessika, for her part, follows Ello’s lead easily, spooning up some stew as she speaks, “So, how do you like the food here, newbie? Finding it hard to keep the sludge down?”

That earns her an elbow in the ribs from Nien, who just shakes his head at her when she protests, but Finn just blinks. He looks down at the food on his tray, only uneaten because of all the conversation and distraction, and then turns his gaze back to Jessika, then does this a few more times.

“Uh… I actually think it’s pretty good,” Finn supplies, shrugging one shoulder. He starts eating again then, if only to avoid their reactions to what feels like the wrong answer. Why is socializing so difficult?

Ello bumps his shoulder, swirling his spork around in his bowl, “Really? That’s new.”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s better than what they served us in the First Order,” Finn says it without thinking about it, then winces down at his tray, hurrying to busy himself with taking a drink. Mentioning the First Order around anyone is always weird, because it’s a reminder of who, of what he used to be. A random number. A faceless mask. A blaster trained to kill for the darkness.

He hates it.

“You will be pleased to hear that you and Snap may get along, at least in that regard,” Nien breaks the tense silence that has fallen, and Finn is grateful for it, “He loves the food here.”

“Who’s Snap?”

Jessika’s eyes light up at the name, and she fails to hide her wide grin, “Snap Wexley, he’s another pilot in our squadron. A good man and a good friend. He’s out with Poe on that recon mission--he’s the best recon pilot we have. You can meet him when they get back.”

Finn nods, files that information, and Jessika’s reaction, away for later use, “I’ll be glad to know him.”

Following another silence, more comfortable this time, as they’re all just eating, Ello looks over at Finn again, “So how’s the recovery going?”

The conversation flows easier after that, and Finn ends up staying awake much later than he had intended, long after the four of them finish their food and drinks. He barely even notices, though--the three pilots are funny and interesting and kind, and Finn spends a lot of time laughing, growing more comfortable in their presence. When they finally part ways for the night, Nien claps him on the shoulder, and Ello and Jessika both hug him, the latter of which making him promise to eat with them in the morning.

Maybe, he muses to himself as he lays in bed staring up at the ceiling, he made some new friends, after all.

~

“Excuse me, sir.”

Finn looks up, spotting C-3PO standing a few feet away, and smiles, “Hey, Threepio. What’s going on?”

The droid putters closer, red arm stretching out in front of him just because it’s really the only movement his design allows, “The Millennium Falcon has returned, it landed only a few minutes ago. We thought it would be important to inform you--”

“The Falcon? Rey is back?!” Finn all but jumps to his feet, taking C-3PO by the shoulders and shaking him as gently as he can manage with all that excitement coursing through him, “Rey is back! Thank you!”

With that, he takes off down the hallway, never slowing even as he shoves through a set of doors and sprints out onto the airfield. There, at the end, the Falcon sits, and Chewbacca towers over the Resistance members crowded in front of it--no Rey, but she’s too short to be seen over everyone else. 

He wants to begin running again, but his injuries leave him easily winded and the strenuous activity has already started to pull at the still-healing wound on his back--no, no, running isn’t a good idea at all. Instead, he gently pushes through the people in the crowd when he reaches it, apologizing and excusing himself all the way.

“Rey!” He calls out, not taking his eyes off dark hair tied back into familiar buns once he catches sight of them, and soon breaks through to the front, “Rey!”

“Finn!” Rey barrels into him and can do more than hold on tight as he lifts her up into his arms, twirling her around. When her feet brush against the ground again, she just hugs him tighter, presses closer, his laughter warm in her ear and her laughter clear in his.

She draws back after what feels like forever, just enough to take in his appearance but not lose contact, and then looks up into his eyes, “Are you doing alright? How are your wounds?”

“Healing,” Finn nods, rolls his shoulders subconsciously at the mention, “I got the stitches out a few days ago and they just released me from the medbay yesterday, so you haven’t missed much. But what about you? You’re back so soon. I thought you found Luke, or, at least, Poe said you did.”

“I did,” Rey assures, “I’ll tell you everything later, it’s a bit of a story. I’m just… Very glad to see you, Finn. I’m glad you’re alright.”

The words are yet another reminder that things outside of the First Order are different, that he has people who genuinely care about him, who he genuinely cares about in return--and though Poe had technically been the first, in a way, Rey is just as endlessly important to him. It’s why he had been so adamant about going to rescue her, and half-lied about being able to turn off the shields just so he had the opportunity to. Sure, it had been more selfish than he likes to think he is, but he hadn’t any other choice. Rey was, is, too important to him to lose without fighting tooth and nail.

He remembers that nearly a quarter of the base is gathered beside them, quiet now, and clears his throat, squeezing Rey’s shoulders before finally dropping his arms, “I’m happy to see you, too, Rey. We should probably get you inside.”

~

Because there aren’t many other places to just sit and hang out, Finn finds himself, yet again, sitting at a table in the mess hall, Rey seated across from him. Since her arrival, the day has been a flurry of excitement, mostly involving many conversations with important people about what happened with Luke and why she had returned. General Organa, obviously, had the most questions about her brother, and Rey spent a few hours alone speaking with her. After that, she had been given the grand tour and a room beside Finn’s, and the two then decided to come down here to grab an early dinner.

So far, Finn has filled her in on everything she missed--about the going-ons around the base, about his time in medbay, about his growing friendships (“Poe is such a great guy, I think you’ll really like him once you get the chance to know him.” “You seem to like Poe a lot yourself.” “Yeah! He’s my closest friend, present company excluded, of course… Why are you giving me that look?”). 

For the most part, they’ve been left alone. A few of the pilots and a nurse or two have stayed long enough to make brief introductions before heading off, but otherwise, everyone seems to decide that the two should be given their space for the time being. Though it’s true, Finn isn’t quite sure what it is that makes them think that.

“So… What’s Luke Skywalker like, anyway?” Finn hasn’t actually heard much of the story yet, other than knowing the Jedi granted Rey a brief interlude before her real training is to begin, and he’s curious. Who wouldn’t be? Some believe Luke Skywalker to be a myth, so mysterious as he is, and Rey had the good fortune to meet the man herself, to be taken under his wing.

“He’s kind,” she replies after a moment of thought, chin resting in the palm of her hand, “Gruff at first, but I think that’s only because he’s been so alone for so long. He began to train me a little and he’s not very merciful when it comes to that, but I suppose that just makes him a good Master. In any event, he’s nice, and good-humored. You’ll get along with him.”

Finn takes in the information, humming thoughtfully, “Do you think he’ll ever come here? General Organa would really like to see him.”

“Not until my training is complete. He says there’s too many distractions to do it here… Did you know he trained in a swamp? Under Yoda?”

The name rings a few bells, calls to old memories of stories whispered in the dark among young boys, an education made to paint the Jedis red. Yoda had been an incredibly powerful Jedi Master with a strong connection to the Force, and he had trained many great Jedis. It only makes sense that Luke Skywalker would have been trained under him.

“That’s amazing,” Finn agrees, idly wondering what it must be like to be Force sensitive. He supposes he’ll never know.

A silence falls over the two of them as they each busy themselves with eating, lost in thought. It’s only after a few minutes of this that Rey speaks again, voice almost distant as if she’s still thinking deeply about things, “He misses her.”

A beat, and then she seems to shake herself, glancing up at Finn with an almost sad smile, “Luke, I mean, and Leia. He doesn’t talk about it much, but he does. And when I told him about Han and Kylo Ren… I think he cried, when he thought I was asleep.” She pauses again before adding, “That’s what he’s really like, Finn. He’s sad.”

Finn thinks about Slip and Zeroes, about the family he’ll never know, about how Rey has lost hers, as well. He thinks about Leia losing both her son and the love of her life, about Luke losing his best friend after punishing himself by creating distance, and about all the people who have already died for this battle. There’s so much loss in this universe, in their lives. How are they meant to deal with it all? With all the death and the hurt and the pain? This is only the beginning, too, and he knows that--the First Order will be back someday, probably soon, and eventually they might not have anything more left to give.

“Yeah,” he agrees after a moment, staring down into his styrofoam cup of coffee, “He must be.”

The air is tense until Rey straightens up, swinging one leg over the back of the bench she’s seated on, “C’mon then, Finn. Let’s find something to do.”

Finn shakes himself and manages a small smile, relieved for Rey’s presence. Jessika, Ello, and the others he had met make good company, but Rey just… Understands. She knows when he needs a distraction versus when he needs to be left to his thoughts. They make sense to one another, and though they got off to a rocky start, their friendship comes easy--almost easier than with Poe.

Finally getting to his feet, Finn gathers up his dishes, downs the rest of his coffee, and then nods at her, “Okay. Let’s go.”

~

Their rooms are connected, they discover, by a shared bathroom. They don’t speak on it, but they both leave their respective door between them open before they head off to sleep, neither willing to close the other off entirely. 

(Finn especially, because sleeping in the medbay had been different--there were always nurses and doctors on watch, lights on down the hall, the occasional other patient--and last night was terrible. It’s so dark in his room, and though there are other occupied rooms down this hall, it’s mostly empty. He’s spent his entire life sleeping at least with two or three others in the same room, because the First Order is nothing if not economical, and even after leaving, he had Rey, Han, and Chewie for a night. Last night was the first real night he had spent totally alone in his entire conscious memory, and he doesn’t ever want to do that again.)

Still, even with the comfort of another human, Rey even, nearby, his nightmares persist. He dreams of a sea of white helmets marred by bloody fingerprints, of snow sparkling red, of the fear in a villager’s eyes just before they fall, crashing to the ground, of punishment in the form of an dark, empty room and a cold metal helmet and pain, so much pain, so much he thinks he’s going to die.

He wakes up screaming and his arms, no matter how much he tries to move them, are pinned down, why are they pinned down, why can’t he move them he should be able to move them what’s wrong what’s going on--

“--’inn! Finn! Finn, hey, Finn, please calm down, it’s just me. It’s just me,” the voice is just above him, but close, and he’s suddenly aware of a weight settled atop him. He blinks a few times, clears the sleep and the sand and the dark haze from his eyes, and is finally able to recognize Rey, straddling his waist, pinning his arms down by the wrist to the mattress. Her chest is heaving, as is his, and he can feel his shirt, damp, clinging to him.

“It’s just me, Finn,” she lets out a slow breath and relaxes her grip, shifting her balance so she can gently take his face in her palms, “You with me?”

He nods ever so slightly, lips parted but unable to form words quite yet. In reply, she just strokes her thumbs over his cheekbones, stares down at him for a moment longer, then slowly rolls off of him. She sits beside him instead, criss-cross, and looks at him without pity. When he gets half a mind to be, he’s thankful for it.

“I’m sorry,” Finn finally croaks out, voice rough. He wishes that he had some water, but he doesn’t want Rey to leave, so he doesn’t ask. Instead, he coughs a few times, gaze shifting from the ceiling to sheepishly meet hers when he’s done, “I didn’t mean to wake you up with that.”

It’s embarrassing, especially because Rey had to come all the way over to his room to get him to stop. He must have been such a bother.

Rey, however, just shakes her head, shrugs one shoulder, “You didn’t. I was already up.” After a moment, she adds, tone light, “Looks like we both have nightmares, huh?”

“Guess so,” he agrees, quietly, in a way that only a person sharing in something horrible with another person will. He’s unable to joke about it like her, at least not now. The air is too heavy, the images too fresh in his mind, and the thought of Rey having been in the next room over suffering through her own nightmares without any comfort afterwards leaves a sourness in his mouth.

They stay like that for a long time, just looking into each other’s eyes as they catch their breath, before Rey shifts, legs swinging off the edge of the bed. Before she makes it very far, Finn calls out, suddenly seized with cold, draining fear, “Rey.”

She hesitates, glances back over her shoulder at him, and his voice cracks as he speaks again, “Would you--Will you stay here tonight?”

A silence follows the request, and Finn almost takes back the words, almost tries to chalk it up to aftershocks of the nightmares, but then Rey is smiling, small and warm and comforting all at once, “I was planning on it. I’m just going to get a glass of water, and then I’ll be back, okay?”

True to her word, she returns only a minute later with a full glass from his kitchenette, setting it on the small table beside his bed before climbing in beside him. Her movements are slow and Finn thinks that might be because she wants to give him time to change his mind, or maybe to give herself time to change her mind, but neither of them do, so. 

They scoot awkwardly around for a bit, unused to sharing the small space, but finally settle with Finn on his back and Rey curled up half on top of him, resting on his chest and against his side. He curls an arm around her and she lays one, loose, across his stomach just above his waist. She’s warm where they’re pressed against one another. He hopes she doesn’t mind the sweat.

“Do you want to stay up or try to sleep?” he asks, knowing he could stay awake if that’s what she wants but also hopeful that her presence will make sleep easier.

Thankfully, she decides on the latter, “Sleep, I think. Or try to, anyway.”

“If neither of us falls asleep within thirty minutes, we’ll find something else to do,” Finn thinks the offer is fair, because he understands the ‘try to’ more than she knows and being unable to sleep while also having nothing to do is the worst.

She agrees to those terms, but it turns out that they don’t need them. They whisper goodnight to one another and Finn feels her breath even out within five minutes. He follows shortly after.

Neither one of them wakes up until the morning.

~

It takes two more days for Poe to return to D’Qar, two more agonizing days. Reconnaissance usually necessitates radio silence, so no one really knows how it’s going until Poe and Snap are on the way home, and by then, there’s only a short amount of time to wait before they arrive.

Finn and Rey just so happen to be hanging out in the main control room with Jessika and two maintenance workers they had befriended, Cam and Tomes, when the first transmission from Poe comes in. No one misses the way Finn immediately perks up at the sound of Poe’s voice, pushing off from the wall he’s leaning against and straightening his jacket. 

Rey has to cover her mouth with one hand to hide her grin, sharing a knowing look with Cam, then Tomes, then finally Jessika, but she’s honestly pretty excited herself. She hasn’t gotten the chance to know him like Finn has, what with her leaving so soon after their victory, but with Finn as a mutual close friend, they had spoken a bit at his bedside before her departure. Besides, with how highly Finn speaks of him, as well as the fact that the man is just plain ridiculously handsome, she can’t help being interested in getting to know him better.

And, already, she knows that Jessika can’t exactly talk--though much younger, it’s pretty obvious that she has a thing for Snap, and Rey can see the happiness in her eyes when she hears Snap’s voice crackle in next.

Despite the fact that there’s still some time before the pilots arrive, Finn, Rey, and Jessika decide to head down to the hangar to wait, leaving Cam and Tomes to shake their heads at their retreating backs.

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Cam sighs wistfully, chuckling when he’s shoved by Tomes in return.

Fast forward about half an hour, and Finn finds himself in Poe’s arms, grinning like an absolute maniac. He’s aware of Jessika and Snap hugging one another a few feet away, and he’s excited to officially meet the man, but he’s too preoccupied with Poe to give it too much thought.

“I missed you, buddy,” Poe gives Finn one last squeeze for good measure and then pulls back, hand lingering on his upper arm for a moment longer, “I know it’s only been a few days, but it was strange not talking to you for that long.”

The admission, coupled with Poe’s open, honest expression, makes Finn blush, and his attempts to keep from smiling are anything but fruitful, “Yeah, man, I’m really, really glad you’re back.”

BB-8 beeps, rather loudly, from somewhere around his feet, and Finn’s eyes drop to the little droid, “Beebee!” He crouches then, somewhat awkwardly hugging BB-8 before standing again, “It’s good to see you, too, little man.”

He doesn’t quite understand BB-8’s response, but the droid seems happy enough, or at least satisfied with his reaction, so turns back to Poe and opens his mouth to begin speaking again. Before he can get anything out, however, Jessika interrupts by dragging Snap over and Poe claps him once on the shoulder before hugging the woman in greeting. He moves the past the group to see Rey then, and Finn’s attention is pulled back to the two pilots in front of them when Jessika touches his arm, “Finn, this is Snap Wexley. Snap, this is Finn.”

“I’ve seen you around, but it’s nice to officially meet you, man,” Snap smiles brightly and drags Finn over for a brief hug, “Poe talks about you all the damn time, too, so I feel like I practically know you already.”

Finn forces out a laugh, hoping his reddening cheeks aren’t noticeable, and runs a hand over his head, “That’s alright, I guess I feel the same about you with how much Jessika says.” He almost regrets it, feeling as if he’s hinted too much at something Jessika would like to leave hidden, but Snap and Jess both laugh at his words, neither embarrassed nor weirded out by his words.

“It’s probably all bad, knowing Jess,” Snap jokes, but his gaze is incredibly fond when he turns it to Jessika, “You know, talking shit about people behind their back isn’t very nice.”

“As if you don’t do the same, twerp,” She rolls her eyes and literally sticks her tongue out Snap, but her smile afterwards leaves Finn feeling as if he’s intruding on something. 

“Anyway,” he says, a little louder than necessary, and takes an awkward step back towards Poe and Rey, “It was great to meet you, Snap. Thanks for introducing us, Jessika.”

With that, he turns fully towards his two closest friends, immediately smiling upon the sight of them hugging. He had really been hoping that they would get along, and maybe a hug doesn’t mean much, but it’s certainly more than them shaking hands or something along those lines. Especially because Rey hasn’t historically been the most touchy-feely person in the universe.

This is good. This is very good.

~

As it turns out, Poe and Rey get along very well. They all do. In the days following Poe’s return, the three of them are more or less inseparable, only breaking apart when there’s something Resistance-related that one or two need to attend to--which, okay, that usually really only applies to Poe, since Finn is still technically resting up and Rey is still technically on a break from her training, but sometimes it’s one of them, too.

Anyway, the point is more that when they aren’t otherwise preoccupied, the way to find one is to find the other two. They might be out on the airstrip, Poe teaching them all he knows about X-Wing maintenance, or sitting in the mess hall joking and talking late into the night, or huddled close by one another talking strategy after meetings with General Organa, or even hanging out on the beach of the nearest lake.

(Seeing as Rey grew up on a desert planet and Finn was raised within the confines of a ship, neither of them knows how to swim. Poe, hailing from Yavin 4, learned early on how to swim in the rivers winding through the jungle, so he insists on teaching them sometime. Finn is skeptical, but Rey seems surprisingly eager, and so it’s decided that when they have a little bit more time, they’ll each learn. No one talks about how it’s possible that they might not ever get the chance.)

At night, Rey and Finn both sleep in his bed, and though they’re usually cramped and they sometimes overheat, they still wordlessly climb in beside one another at the end of each day. After only a handful of nights, he’s decides he probably wouldn’t be able to get to sleep without her there, anyway, and tries his best not to think about how she’ll be leaving eventually.

Finn tries his best not to think about a lot of things. When he gets to spend so much time with his best friends, it’s surprisingly easy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for all the kind words so far!!! it really, really means a lot to me. I know everyone says it but hearing from you honestly does help me keep writing, so I appreciate it more than you know
> 
> some fun stuff in this chapter, i hope y'all enjoy ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
> 
> kill me

Just over a week after being released from the medbay, Finn is called in to speak with General Organa. He finishes his breakfast quickly and then heads down to the control room alone, nerves flaring up for some odd reason. It isn’t like he’s done anything that would land him in trouble, but he isn’t sure what else she would have to talk to him about. He spends the entire walk racking his brain.

“General Organa,” he greets the woman with a polite, if not a bit tense, smile, hands clasped together behind his back because he isn’t sure what else to do with them.

The general stares at him for a long moment before scoffing and flapping a hand at him, “Finn, please, you can feel free to call me Leia. General Organa is much too… Formal. A bit of a mouthful, too. Now sit down.”

Finn blinks stupidly at her, then hurries to take the seat beside her. They are seated in front of a long panel of buttons and levers which is, in turn, installed in front of a large screen, and he decides, idly, that it must be because there really aren’t all that many places to sit in the room. Doesn’t she have an office or something?

“So,” she begins, smiling at him as if she’s amused by something, “How are your injuries? Healing well, I hope.”

“Yes, of course,” Finn feels like it’s necessary to defend the work of the doctors, though there isn’t any reason to--they did a fine job, and it isn’t as if General Orga--or, uh, Leia would be the type to be angry with them otherwise. Old habits die hard, he supposes. “They took out the stitches before I even got released, and I had a physical therapy session a few days ago. The medic says they might even cancel the rest, since I’m doing so well.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, Finn. I’m so glad that you’re doing well, we were all worried when you came back injured.”

She’s being sincere, or Finn is pretty sure that she is, anyway, and the fact that this woman, so important and so powerful and certainly so concerned with many more important matters, genuinely cares about him is… Crazy, honestly. Absolutely bewildering. He isn’t quite sure that he’ll ever grow used to how the universe works outside of the First Order, because literally every other interaction he has with someone now leaves him blown away with their kindness.

Unsure of what else to do, he nervously plays with his own fingers and forces himself not to look away, “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“There’s no need to thank me, or anyone else, for that matter. You’re part of this place now. You’re one of us. We look after each other,” Leia pats his knee gently, “Speaking of, have you given any thought to my offer?”

He hesitates at first, not knowing what she means, but then remembers the day she had visited him in the medbay. The Resistance. Joining them, fighting alongside them, alongside Poe and Jessika and Nien and Snap and all the others he’s become close with. At the time, he had decided he wouldn’t run anymore, and joining up with them made the more sense. He hasn’t changed his mind at all--if anything, he’s more eager to help now.

“I have, and I will. Join you, I mean. I can’t think of anything I would rather do,” and he means it, even if he doesn’t exactly have an idea of anything else he could do.

Finn’s words make Leia smile, eyes crinkling similarly to how Poe’s do, “Thank you, Finn. I’m happy to hear that, and everyone else will be happy to, as well. You’re a good man.” This isn’t the first time she’s said it to him, but it still makes his heart skip, “We can begin your training soon, but I think we’ll go easy for awhile, until you’re fully healed up.”

Hopefully it won’t be too similar to his training within the First Order, because he doesn’t want to be reminded of his time there if he doesn’t have to, but Finn is excited to start, anyway. It’ll give him some sense of purpose, and training is often refreshing, invigorating, even a bit fun. If absolutely nothing else, at least it will be something for him to do.

After he agrees, Leia tells him that she’ll be making the same offer to Rey while she’s around, and asks him to send Rey in to see her. When they’re both standing, he hesitates for half a second before quietly, tentatively asking if he can have a hug. 

Leia smiles at him like she had that day in the medbay, something in it that reminds him of a mother he has no real memories of, and opens her arms for a hug.

He can see now why Poe looks up to her so much, idolizes her the way that he does. After losing his mother, she became a mother-figure to him, and though Finn hasn’t known her very long at all, he can see how easily she fits that role.

The hug is nice. He thanks her, embarrassed, and then hurriedly takes his leave.

~

After breakfast is finished, Poe and Rey decide to roam the halls for a time while they wait for Finn to finish talking to General Organa, BB-8 rolling along just behind them. They don’t often have the chance to spend time just with one another, since Poe is usually the one who’s off doing something, leaving Rey and Finn by themselves, but they’re good enough friends by now that conversation is easy and silence is comfortable.

“I hope they got all the important stuff inside,” Poe mumbles, more to himself than anything, after one of said silences. They have just passed by a window and Rey, a bit confused, follows his gaze outside. Dark clouds hang low in the sky, but it isn’t raining--though the ground is wet as if it had. “The X-Wings are fine in the rain, but a lot of the other equipment will get ruined if it’s wet.”

“There was rain? When?” Rey nearly stops walking, tone edging on urgent.

“Last night,” Poe turns his head to her, raises an eyebrow, “You slept through it? It was a pretty bad storm, I guess.”

“Yeah, I sleep pretty heavily now with Finn there,” she supplies distractedly, preoccupied with the fact that it had rained and she missed it, “I can’t believe it rained last night. Do you think it will again?” Out of the fifteen years she spent on Jakku, basically her entire conscious memory, she remembers it raining only twice, and both times led to terrifying flash floods that caused a lot of destruction. She nearly died the first time, having been young and confused and basically on her own, but, supposedly, that only happens on desert planets. Places like D’Qar don’t flood, and she wants, more than anything, to feel the rain for the first time without fearing for her life.

(She’s a bit pissed that the first time she got to experience what she now knows as snow was on the Starkiller Base, because she was far too distracted by trying to fight of Kylo Ren and escape to even appreciate it. She’ll have to fix that sometime.)

“I don’t know, the clouds seem--” Poe blinks, shakes his head, and stops in tracks, “Wait, you and Finn sleep together?”

Rey spares a glance over at him, expression incredulous, and shrugs before stepping over to the window again, “Yeah, we do, but I’m talking about the rain right now, Poe.”

“The clouds look like they’re heading away from us, Rey, I don’t think it’ll rain again today, but I can’t be sure,” Poe says the words quickly, an edge to his voice, and follows her, “You guys sleep together?”

Rey rolls her eyes and huffs, facing Poe fully, “Yes, Finn and I sleep in the same bed. It helps to keep away nightmares and we both sleep better that way, nothing more to it. Is that a problem?” Why is he so concerned with this?

Poe stares at her for quite some time, something undecipherable in his eyes, before his shoulders and facial features both finally relax, “No, not at all, Rey. How about we go outside to the airstrip? We can see if there are anymore storm clouds coming.”

While she doesn’t understand the suddenly flip in Poe’s demeanor, she agrees, eager now to see if there’s any chance of another storm. There isn’t much to socializing and reading other people that she does understand, quite frankly, but it’s never worried her before. Whatever Poe is concerned with is his business alone unless he decides to share it.

With both this and the promise of going outside in mind, she allows Poe to loop his arm through hers and lead the way through the base to the hangar. The air is light again and neither has any trouble joking around as they walk, arm and arm.

Still, the conversation lingers in Poe’s mind long after it’s finished, but he isn’t quite sure why. Potential jealousy crosses his mind, but that touches on feelings he doesn’t totally understand, hasn’t allowed himself to dwell on long enough to figure out, and anyway, he isn’t able to distinguish which of them, if either, he would be jealous of. Maybe it’s neither.

Maybe he just wishes he were there, too.

~

Finn’s training begins with guns--simple and practically the least strenuous that an activity can get, which ends up sucking a little bit, since that means he’s set to practice his shot at an indoor range until a doctor clears him for more active duty.

And the thing about Finn is that he’s already an excellent shot.

Poe sits and watches him, eyes the rigid line of his back, his tense muscles, can hear when he lets out a short breath just before every pull of the trigger. It’s spectacular to see how true his aim is, even in the chaotic drills that have targets moving all over the place, interspersed with ‘civilians’ who he never once hits.

The blue-skinned woman in charge of this part of his training--Asori Rak, Poe remembers her introducing herself as--continually attempts to make the targets more difficult to hit, and she does well, though she is limited as far as having to work with a stationary Finn. Still, try as she might, she can’t manage to create a training exercise that he can’t execute near-flawlessly, if not entirely flawlessly.

(Rey is a different matter entirely--she comes down to train with him and while she’s more than competent enough with blasters, her strongsuit is obviously more hand-to-hand, or at least short distance, combat. The more complicated exercises trip her up.)

The fact of the matter is, he’s already had this type of training, and it was obviously very beneficial to him. No one talks about that part, because none of them like to think about his past as a Stormtrooper, but it’s true. He’s a damn good shot because he’s already been trained to be. As good of a teacher as Asori is, there’s not much more she can do for him.

So, since sparring and hand-to-hand combat are still deemed too taxing for Finn and he obviously can’t move any further at the range, Leia comes up with another suggestion.

“Piloting?” Finn lights up at the idea, emotions flooding through him. Ever since he met Poe and Rey and the other Resistance pilots, he’s admired their abilities to fly. After spending so much time with the First Order, he likes the idea of having that level of freedom and control, despite the responsibilities and dangers that may come with it. Poe has even said himself that being up in the air is when he feels the most alive, and maybe it isn’t the same for everyone, but Finn help but hope that it might, at least, be the same for him.

“I don’t know about that,” Poe cuts in, and he looks uncharacteristically agitated at the thought.

Rey raises an eyebrow, tilting her head back to fix him with a questioning stare, “And why not? Finn is capable, he would make a great pilot.”

Poe is quick, frantic, almost, to backpedal, shaking his head and holding his hands up innocently, “No, no, I don’t--I didn’t mean to imply I don’t think Finn is capable. He absolutely is. That’s not what I meant at all.”

“Then why don’t you think it’s a good idea for him?” Rey challenges, lips twitching up into a ghost of a smirk when he doesn’t answer right away.

“Will you two stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Finn has his arms crossed and if Poe didn’t know him any better, he might say that the man is outright pouting. When Rey and Poe both quiet down, he turns to speak to Leia, “I’d like the opportunity to try it, at least.”

“Listen, flying those X-Wings can be tiring. It might not be good for the injuries right now,” Poe is trying, he really is, and his heart is in the right place. Rey will give him that. She can tell that he’s just worried about Finn, because it’s an incredibly dangerous job at times, as the battle at the Starkiller Base proves on its own, but she knows Finn will be careful and capable enough, and what job in this Resistance doesn’t come with it’s own dangers?

Maybe later, out of Finn’s earshot, she’ll talk to the pilot about it, if only to make him feel better about the decision that has practically already been made.

“Actually, I’ve been told you are cleared for flight training, Finn. You’ll only be working in a simulator for the time being, anyway,” Leia gives Poe a very, very pointed look, to which he lets out an almost inaudible sigh, shoulders falling.

It seems he isn’t going to win this round, so he resigns himself to that and moves on, “Alright, well. If that’s what you want to do, Finn, we can get you set up with a simulator as soon as possible.” He pauses, briefly, and then offers, “I could be in charge of your training, if you want.”

The notion makes sense on its own, seeing as Poe is easily the best pilot in the Resistance, but Finn is especially inclined to take him up on the offer just because, well. It’s Poe Dameron. Why wouldn’t he take an excuse to spend even more time with him?

“I’d like that,” Finn glances over at Leia to gauge her reaction, make sure she gives the ‘okay’ just in case there’s any reason she might not, and then all but beams at Poe, “Thank you.”

As they clear out into the hallway, decidedly heading to go get lunch, Poe meets Rey’s eyes and finds the same measure of concern inside them that he knows must be found in his own. There’s some relief there, though, as well as a bit of pride, and he knows that it’s directed at Finn. Maybe this won’t be so bad, after all, he thinks. He can worry all he want, but in the end, Finn will do what he wants, and he has to recognize that the fact that it’s even true, that Finn will take advantage of his own free will and do something great with it, something great for himself, for others, for the Resistance, well... 

It’s incredible. It’s inspiring. He’s has come so far from the anonymity of that helmet in such a short amount of time, and Rey is right to be proud of him. Poe can feel it now, too, swelling inside his chest as Finn asks question after question about being a pilot, voice animated, eyes bright, smile radiant.

Finn as a pilot. It just makes sense.

~

The next night, as Finn is readying himself for bed, there comes a knock on the door. He finishes pulling on a fresh t-shirt to sleep in and then heads over, barefoot, to open it, trying to figure out who exactly it might be.

On the other side of the door, when it whooshes open, stands Poe, dressed down in sleepwear with a pillow and a blanket in his arms. Behind him, BB-8 beeps in greeting and rolls closer to its master’s feet.

“Hey, buddy,” Poe greets simply.

“Hey, man,” Finn replies.

Rey comes out from the bathroom just as the door closes behind them, BB-8 rolling to a stop in the corner and Poe shifting from one foot the other slowly. She’s never seen him look awkward before. It’s weird.

“‘lo, Bee, ‘lo, Poe,” she runs her fingers through her hair, which is down and curling over her shoulders. Poe’s never seen her without the buns before. It’s nice.

“Evening, Rey,” he follows Finn further inside, dropping his belongings in the middle of the floor beside the bed. Finn busies himself with grabbing a glass of water to put on the nightstand just in case, and when he turns again, he finds Rey perched on the edge of the bed and Poe seated on the floor in front of her.

“Anyone need to be up by a certain time?” Finn picks up his comm display and fiddles with it for a moment until the clock pops up, but no one does, so he sets it for nine, a reasonable time that can be snoozed through if need be, and takes a seat beside Rey.

The droid in the corner makes a soft humming sound as it powers down to rest. Then there’s silence.

Poe, still feeling awkward, gets to his knees and starts spreading out his blanket on the carpet, but Finn’s voice stops him, “What are you doing?”

Poe lets out a soft scoffing sound, begins straightening the blanket again, “You think there’s room up there for all three of us? I bet there’s barely room for the two of you.”

He’s right, but Rey and Finn exchange a look, anyway. Neither of them like it. She stands then and disappears into her room through the bathroom, which is a mysterious action only until she returns with the comforter and pillow off of her bed. Suddenly understanding, Finn gathers his own, and the two, very unceremoniously, plop everything down on the floor.

Rey’s comforter lands draped over Poe’s crouched form, and she chuckles at the sight of it. Finn begins to laugh, as well, at the sight of Poe’s covered head swiveling around in confusion, and soon, all three of them are caught up in a fit of giggles that has them rolling around on the floor like children. It’s fun, and it’s freeing, and Finn thinks about how he only gets to laugh like that, feel like that when he’s around the two of them.

Eventually, they settle on their backs beside each other, residual giggles escaping one of them every few seconds. It’s usually, surprising, Poe, who has since freed his head but is still mostly tangled up in Rey’s comforter. A companionable quiet follows, only broken when the pilot asks, “Have either of you ever built a blanket fort?”

It’s a juvenile activity, one that would have occurred in childhood, so he figures it’s a longshot that either of them has. And it is, he finds, when both Finn and Rey say no. “Ah, well,” he finally moves to sit up, the blanket pooling around his waist and his hair falling into his face. It’s not nearly as perfect now, after rolling around, with all the gel gone, but he can’t bring himself to care all that much. “For another night. For now, though, we should actually try to set up a reasonable sleeping arrangement if you two really want to crash down here.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Finn sits up, as well, and watches Rey do the same out of his peripheral. With the three of them working at it, the already simple job gets done within seconds--two blankets are underneath them, as a cushion, and the third will be used in case the body heat isn’t enough to keep them warm. The pillows are piled haphazardly at one end.

Finn almost considers asking Poe if cuddling is alright, because that’s kind of an unspoken every-night sort of thing with him and Rey, but he ends up not having to. Poe stretches out first, off to the right, and then makes what can only be described as ‘grabby hands’ at the two still standing. That makes Rey giggle again, odd coming from her but still incredibly, admittedly, adorable, and she curls up to the left of him easily. Finn shuts off the light, then settles down in the middle, having nowhere else to go.

For some reason, having both of them there is even nicer to him than just having Rey. It’s warm, Poe radiates heat like a furnace, and hearing their steady breathing is unbelievably comforting just on it’s own. 

Then there is, of course, the cuddling. After a bit of maneuvering, Finn ends up on his side, farther down than the other two, forehead resting against Poe’s chest and one arm curled over his waist, the other sandwiched beneath. Rey is pressed up behind him, her chin grazing the top of his head and her leg hooked over his thigh. Her own head is pillowed by Poe’s bicep. Poe, for his part, is facing them, and the arm that isn’t under Rey’s head is draped across her and Finn both. It’s a bit unconventional, but Finn can’t remember ever feeling so content and safe in his entire life.

“Goodnight,” Rey murmurs into his hair, and he can feel hers tickling at the back of his neck.

“G’night,” Poe lets it out with a breath, chest rumbling against Finn even with the one word.

Finn breathes in deeply, exhales slow through his parted lips, and decides, in his sleepiness, that he wants to fall asleep like this every night for the rest of his life, “See y’in the morning…”

If either replies, it falls on deaf ears.

(The following day, during a bit of shared free time in the afternoon, the three of them move Rey’s bed into Finn’s room with much more difficulty than any of them would like to admit. BB-8 sits idly by, watches, and every once and awhile beeps in a way that even Finn can tell is smug and amused.

Despite the struggle, they often fall into one another and pile up on the floor when it comes time to sleep, anyway.)

~

“I’ve got a treat for you,” Poe finds his two friends in the armory, Rey helping Finn tinker with some blasters and other weapons to learn the basic mechanics. He has a shift on watch himself, is due to report to the general in only about five minutes, but his message is quick, anyway.

Rey and Finn raise their heads in tandem, though it’s the former who speaks, “A treat for who?”

“Both of you,” Poe steps further inside of the room and grins, “And I think you’ll like it. Meet me by the lake at 1900, alright?”

Confused, they both start at the same time, questions on their lips that he doesn’t intend on answering. He shakes his head and starts walking backwards towards the open door, pointing one finger in a surprisingly successful attempt to silence them, “The lake. 1900. Tonight. Be there or be square.”

He disappears into the hall, but pops his head back around the corner after a second, “Oh, and don’t eat dinner.”

And then he’s gone.

That night, once he’s finished digging up some X-Wing engine parts from the basement with Snap, Finn retrieves Rey from where she’s meditating on the floor of her room and the two set out. Poe is nowhere in sight when they arrive, but then, they do have five minutes to spare, so it’s fair.

At exactly 1900 hours, according to Finn’s wrist comm, Poe emerges from the treeline behind them and calls out, “Rey! Finn! Over here!” He’s waving them over when they turn, and Rey offers Finn a small shrug before moving through the tall grass to where the pilot is waiting.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Poe says when they reach him, already beginning to move back into the trees without another word.

“Only a few minutes,” Finn assures him, though he’s distracted by something else, “Where are we going, man? The lake’s that way.” He jabs a thumb back over his shoulder for good measure, though Poe’s back is to him so he doesn’t even end up seeing it.

“Don’t worry, just follow me,” is all Poe offers as an answer, effectively ending the conversation. If he doesn’t want to say, he won’t, and there’s no getting it out of him, so Rey and Finn just follow along.

(But not without Rey muttering under her breath, “I hate surprises.” This, of course, is not something Poe will deign with a response.)

They make their way through the forest in relative silence, only making small talk about their separate days and occasionally pointing out some kind of animal. It isn’t a long journey, only a few minutes longer than it takes to walk to the lake from the base in the first place, but it’s in an entirely different direction and neither Rey nor Finn have any idea where they could be going. Eventually, they start moving uphill, the trees becoming more and more sparse as they go--and then the trees stop altogether, leaving the trio at the edge of a small clearing, more like a large patch of grass, that ends with a cliff.

Spread across the grass is a red blanket, stones holding down three corners and a basket covering the last. Poe gestures to the little set up with an sort of sparkle in his eyes, “Welcome to Makeout Point.”

It’s obvious that he’s joking by his tone, but when Finn blinks blankly at him and Rey gets that little furrow in her brow, he lets out a little sigh and rubs at his neck as he turns away, “Alright, well. Ignore that. Let’s just sit down.”

“You still haven’t explained yourself,” Rey points out, a little sass leaking into her voice, but she complies, anyway, and follows Poe over. Finn moves with her, but he ends up stopping just short of the blanket when he finally gets a look at the view from where they are.

With the sun just beginning to set, a brilliant ball of red sinking towards the horizon, the sky looks totally unreal, like a painting. Red fades into orange fades into yellow fades into pink fades into purple fades into a blue that darkens as it stretches behind them, back towards the base, and each color is reflected in the still surface of the lake below them. The rings around the planet are almost most visible at this time of day, color skewed by the dying light. Immediately above them, where the sky begins to grow dark, a few stars are already twinkling, the largest recognizable as the nearest planet to them.

From where he stands, he can see the shoreline they usually spend their time at. A light breeze causes the trees to rustle quietly against each other.

“Wow…” he feels like he needs to catch his breath, so he takes a seat on the other side of the blanket from Rey, who is just as captivated.

Poe looks up at him from where he’s crouched, digging through the basket, but just smiles in that one way and wordlessly returns to what he’s doing. After a moment, he clears his throat to get their attention, presenting what he’s laid out by turning his palms up and spreading his arms out, “Surprise.” That’s directed mostly at Rey who, for her part, shoots him a half-hearted glare before turning her gaze back down to the blanket.

There appears to be a stack of tightly wrapped sandwiches, three sealed plastic containers full of fruit, an array of styrofoam bowls and cups grouped in trios, a large thermos, a small tray covered in foil, a pile of utensils and napkins, three thin-stemmed glasses, and two bottles of clear pink liquid.

“You fit all that in the basket?” Rey is unable to think of anything else to say, placing a hand lightly on her stomach when it stirs at the sight. She’s still getting used to the fact that she can eat almost as much as she wants of whatever she wants here--food is rationed, to a point, but not nearly so tightly as it had been on Jakku, and there’s so many options, bigger portions, the ability to go back for seconds, thirds, sometimes even fourths if she wants.(She’s seen Snap go back for fourths on several occasions, but even if she wanted to, she couldn’t bear to fit that much food in her stomach). Really, honestly, she doesn’t even have to do any work to get it--it’s just provided to her.

And here, again, Poe is so generous with this food he’s brought them, assumedly just because he can, or to be nice, or some other reason that isn’t to reward them for difficult work.

“It’s a big basket,” Poe explains simply, stepping over the line up so he can take a seat between the two of them before he beings to point things out, “These are just little sandwiches, turkey and cheese and lettuce and tomato--I made sure to leave tomatoes off a few of them for you, Finn. There’s some fruit here in these containers, obviously, and, uh, stew in these--except it might be cold by now, so maybe that wasn’t the best idea--and that potato salad stuff you like so much, Rey, in those ones. There’s water in the thermos there, I hope it’s alright if we share, the utensils and napkins are self-explanatory, and finally, for dessert, cookies that may or may not be burnt, with my apologies if they are.”

Finn blinks, almost unable to take in all that’s available, before noticing Poe hadn’t said anything about the bottles. They have labels on them, but he can’t quite make out anything more than the words ‘Moet & Chandon’ in fancy script, “And what are those?”

Poe glances over at him from the corner of his eye, lips twitching up into a smirk that’s barely even there, “We’ll get to it later.”

The three of them tuck in easily, joking and talking their way through the meal. Grapes are thrown, sandwich crusts stolen, stew and cookie crumbs spilled, but all in all, it’s just plain fun. The spontaneity of the whole thing is exciting in and of itself, as well as Poe’s obvious thoughtfulness for their tastes and just for putting together the idea in the first place, but being able to mess around and laugh and enjoy himself so thoroughly with his best friends makes it that much better in Finn’s opinion.

He never would have even dreamed this a possibility back when he was a Stormtrooper.

The sun has disappeared entirely by the time they finish, but the light of D’Qar’s rings and moons keeps everything lit enough to comfortably see. Rey has since flopped down onto her back, arms wrapped around her stomach as she whines dramatically about how damn full she is. Poe leans back, supports himself with one hand, simultaneously laughing at her, good-naturedly, of course, and polishing off the last cookie. Finn works on cleaning up, putting leftovers and trash into the basket until only the bottles and the glasses are left out.

When Poe finishes his cookie, he brushes his hands together to rid them of crumbs and reaches, finally for one of the bottles. He shifts so his feet are flat on the ground, allowing him to rest his elbows on either and lean forward, and tilts the bottle so the label catches the light from the sun, “These, my friends, is some of the last bottles of Moet & Chandon blush wine left on this base, which means they’re some of the last in the whole system.”

Wine. That makes sense. The rest doesn’t really, but Finn nods and lets out a soft ‘ahh’ as if it does, anyway.

“They were made on Hosnian Prime, the capital of the New Republic that the First Order destroyed,” Poe includes the last part more for Rey’s benefit. He seems melancholic, and Finn thinks that he must enjoy this wine a lot. Suddenly, the pilot shakes himself from his thoughts and, though he knows the answer, asks, “Have either of you had alcohol before?”

Finn shakes his head at the same time that Rey, now sitting up, murmurs, “Never.”

Poe looks between them, a smirk that suits him much better than sad eyes appearing on his lips, “Would you like to?”

~

And so that’s how Rey and Finn get drunk for the first time, sharing the seventh-and-sixth-to-last bottles of blush wine imported from a planet that doesn’t even exist anymore. 

(Rey doesn’t like the taste at first, and Poe says she can stop if she wants, but assures her that it tastes better the more she drinks. And halfway through her second glass, it does… Or, maybe she just stops caring.)

(The weight of their actions hits Finn out of nowhere as Poe pulls out the cork from the second one. There’s only five, now, bottles of this left on the base, because for some reason, Poe, apparently secretly, took these two for them to try. Not only is it Poe’s favorite, but the favorite of many of the Resistance fighters on the base, and Finn can’t help but think about how he doesn’t really even like it all that much. He feels bad. It’s been wasted on him and Rey. They haven’t ever even had anything else to drink, neither of them can appreciate it.

But he keeps drinking, anyway, because the bottle is open now and he likes this floating feeling and what else is he going to do? Let Poe and Rey have the rest? Hell no.)

(Poe tries to make sure neither of them overdoes it with their lower tolerances, drinking the majority of the second bottle himself and still ending up less drunk than either of them. He makes sure they keep drinking from the thermos, as well, so it doesn’t hit them as hard in the morning. Or now, even. They have time, hours of it, but they do eventually need to return to the base and he would prefer it if they all made it back in one piece.)

This is how they end up each lying on their backs, close enough to brush arms whenever someone moves, as they stare up at the stars. Rey talks about growing up on Jakku (“Gods above, he was an ugly creature, and the amount scraps were worth changed all the time. And the sand! I think there must still be some in my hair or something. It was everywhere, constantly.”), Poe tells them about his parents and his first time ever flying a plane on his own (“My mama--hell, she was a better pilot than me. I wanted to be just like her when I grew up. She was so strong, and beautiful, and she helped anyone who needed it, no matter what.” “Do you miss her?” “...Every day.”), and Finn… Well.

“Finn? Can I ask you something?”

It’s Rey’s voice, floating over Poe to his ears. Without hesitation, he agrees, “Yeah, sure.”

A moment passes before she says anything more, “What was it like, being a Stormtrooper?” Almost as soon as she asks it, she seems to regret it, hurrying to take back the words, “Ah, shit, nevermind, you don’t have to answer that, it wasn’t a good question to ask--”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Finn worries his bottom lip between his teeth, knowing he doesn’t have to talk about it but thinking maybe it’s time that he does, “That’s okay to ask.”

Despite his words, he stays silent for a long time, almost long enough for Rey to start dismissing the topic again. Poe is warm beside him, though, heat radiating even though they aren’t quite touching, and the alcohol has him feeling all bubbly inside, and he’s nervous, sure, but he trusts Poe and he trusts Rey and he knows that he’s safe with them. They know the basics, anyway, and they still like him well enough, so what’s a little more detail?

He starts slow, “Some of the Stormtroopers are clones, like all the rumors say, I think, but most of us… Most of us were taken, when we were young. From our families, you know? I don’t know if anyone remembers anything from back then, from before. If they do, they never say it. I don’t, myself, just little bits and pieces in my dreams sometimes, certain feelings when I see certain things or smell certain things, but… That’s it, really. Funny thing is, I wasn’t even that young when they took me--I was four. Other guys were just babies, but I was old enough to form memories. I just. Don’t have any.”

It’s frustrating, that he can’t remember his life from before the First Order. He isn’t as angry about that as he used to be, doesn’t think about it as much, but every once and awhile, when he feels something he doesn’t even understand, it hurts as if the wound is fresh.

“I don’t really remember the first few years, either. I’ve been told there’s a lot of… Conditioning done then, and maybe that’s why I don’t remember anything, but I can’t be sure. When I was a little bit older, before they stopped collecting kids to train, I remember the younger ones, the new ones, always looked all bruised up. The ones who cried the most had the most bruises, but usually they all stopped crying after a few months,” he lets out a slow, shaky breath and feels Poe’s hand, rough and warm, wrap around his own, “Anyway, uh. Once we got old enough, it was pretty much constant training. They told us all about the old wars, but from their side, and they gave us an education. We were taught how to read and to do basic arithmetic, and the cut and dry of other topics like reproduction, even though we weren’t allowed to do that.”

“To what? Reproduce?” Rey’s voice is smaller than he’s ever heard it and if he were sober enough he would hate it, hate the pity in it, but as it is, he barely even notices.

“Reproduction, sexual intercourse, that sort of thing. I suppose maybe eventually we would have been allowed to, maybe when we were older, but, well,” Finn can tell that he’s blushing, knowing now, after some listening in on conversations between the pilots, that sex isn’t as sterile as he thought it was. There’s much more to it than he was ever told, and people actually enjoy it, apparently. On top of that, being a virgin, like he apparently is, isn’t generally accepted past a certain age--and he’s most certainly past that age. Hopefully neither Rey nor Poe think any less of him for it.

“It was mostly training, though. Combat, marksmanship, some of us were trained as pilots, even. If you were really, really good, you were promoted at twenty-five, and I know some ‘troopers even got promoted to jobs where they didn’t have to wear the armor anymore,” Finn can hear the envy in his own voice and desperately tries to clamp down on it, insides turning to ice at the thought that they still have some control over his thoughts and emotions. 

To distract himself, he switches topics, pushes on, “They spent a lot of time just keeping us fit, too, and the food was monitored and portioned at the bare minimum we needed to be healthy and survive. Hobbies weren’t allowed. You trained, worked shifts, ate, and slept. If there were any signs of insubordination, you were sent in for… For reconditioning.”

The word itself is unpleasant, and he can almost feel Poe recoil. Lord, he hates this, hates talking about this, hates reliving this, but he’s already started and maybe it’s the alcohol but he’s finding it hard to stop, “It was mostly beatings, but they had some kind of videos playing in the background, or audio sometimes. I never experienced that specifically, but any time some came out of there… Yeah. Beatings were just the typical punishment for anything, really.”

He pauses, briefly, and then starts again, not once taking his eyes off of the stars above him. He doesn’t want to see their reactions. “We had squadrons, ten or twelve of us all with the same letter designation. I was an FN, FN-2187. We didn’t really get to talk all that much, and it wasn’t like we could hang out, but there were these other cadets I ended up training with when we were younger, and then we ended up just spending our time together. We would run drills and training missions together and we got to share a room… We weren’t friends, but we were as close as we could be. I think that’s why they let us stick together, so we would be more loyal, but too much of a relationship and it became a danger.”

When he falls silent again, Poe squeezes his hand once and encourages him softly, “Do you want to talk about them?”

Not really, sober-Finn wants to say, but drunk-Finn blabbers on, “There was FN-2000, we called him Zeroes, and FN-2199, Nines, and then, uh… Then FN-2003. We called him Slip, because--... Because that kid was so goofy. Kind, but man, was he clumsy. He was always falling behind or messing up his part of a mission, and so Nines and Zeroes didn’t like him all that much, but I did. He was a good guy. I tried to help him out a lot, but Captain Phasma caught on and told me to stop, because he wouldn’t get better if I helped him. He didn’t really get better, anyway. I wish he could be here now… I don’t know what we would have called him, but he would have liked it here.”

“You could have taken him with us,” Poe is delicate, but Finn is more concerned with the irony of that statement than with his potential lack of judgment getting pointed out like that.

“No. No. No, I couldn’t have. I couldn’t take him with us,” Finn’s chest begins constricting in the way it does sometimes when he gets panicky, when he can’t breathe, when all he can do is curl up and cry and hyperventilate until someone calms him down, “I couldn’t.”

Though she isn’t sure that she wants to know the answer, Rey raises her head and prods, “Why not?”

“He’s dead,” he says the words aloud for the first time since it happened, and his emotions come crashing down around him, “He’s dead. On Jakku--Poe, that night on Jakku, when they came for the map and they took you away, he died--he died, he was shot, it was our first damn battle, the first time we were ever sent out on something real and I couldn’t protect him anymore, I couldn’t protect him, he died in my arms and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it! And it was you, Poe, it was you--I know you didn’t know, I know you didn’t mean it this way, but you meant to kill him, I know you did, what else would you have done? You were trying to save yourself and the map, but you shot him, Poe, it was you, and now he’s dead, he’s dead, Slip is dead and I couldn’t take him with me--”

The severity of what he had done, however unwittingly, hits Poe like a landspeeder. He doesn’t know how he’s ever supposed to make it up to Finn, but he does know that he can’t waste time thinking about it now, because Finn is undoubtedly having a panic attack and he needs to calm the kid down.

He sits up fully, taking Finn’s shaking form into his arms and rocking ever so slightly. Physical touch has proven to be the best way to pull him out of an attack, so Poe does his best, cupping the back of his head with one hand and gently stroking the fingers of the other up and down the length of his spine. 

Rey, probably sobered from the sight, drops down to her knees in front of them, and Poe doesn’t remember her ever getting up, but is glad for it, either way. She moves so her arms are wrapped around Finn, partially around Poe, as well, and though it forces Poe to stop rubbing the other’s back, their collective presence seems to help Finn out more than that did.

They stay in that position for what feels like hours, long after Poe’s butt gets sore and Rey’s legs cramp up, but they don’t feel the need, even, to complain. It’s been an emotional night, all in all, and they just want to make sure Finn is alright--which he is, in the end. So alright that he ends up falling asleep squished between them.

“I think it’s time to go inside,” Poe strokes Finn’s hair idly, listening to his slow breathing, “That alright with you, Rey?”

She meets his gaze and smiles, gently, “Yeah. Are you planning on waking him up?”

“Nah, no waking him up now. Will you give me a hand?” Poe gets to his feet once Rey is set with Finn leaning against her, wincing as his knees crack in protest. When he feels steady enough, he crouches down again and picks Finn up, cradling the man against him.

Rey stands as well then, stifling a yawn and stretching her arms over her head. Her shirt rides up the slightest bit, exposing a bit of her stomach, and Poe averts his gaze, “Are you okay carrying the rest, Rey?”

“Absolutely,” she flashes a grin and gathers up the blanket first, tying it around her neck because it seems like the easiest way to carry it--or, at least, it’ll do her well to leave one hand free in case she stumbles on the way back. The trees get thick and it’ll be dark, after all, and while she doesn’t feel as light and giggly as before, she knows she’s still drunk. 

Once she has the basket in hand, she goes to Poe’s side, gripping the back of his jacket loosely and humming, “Okay, let’s go.”

The following morning, Finn and Rey whine endlessly and hide their faces, cuddled up on either side of Poe. Rey snaps and Finn tightens his grip whenever Poe tries to get up, even when he’s only trying to get water and painkillers for them--it’s what he gets for forgetting to set that out last night, he supposes. Good thing he hasn’t any obligations until the afternoon.

He isn’t exactly complaining, though--Finn is warm and Rey’s hair is pleasantly ticklish against his skin. If he’s being honest with himself, he may have a bit of a hangover, too, and it’s nice to lounge for once.

Especially with the two of them.


End file.
